Special Venom for the U.S.

It was 2 o'clock in the morning, and Muammar Gaddafi was weary. As host
of an Organization of African Unity (O.A.U.) summit, he had been
working around the clock for more than a week to try to salvage the
conference. When not whisking about in his pale blue Bedouin robes or
stylish dark suit, with half a dozen Kalashnikov-toting female
bodyguards in blue berets swelling his progress, Gaddafi had spent the
previous few days reading reports and consulting with other Arabs about
the news from Lebanon. None of it was good from his standpoint. He had
just seen off the last...